Frilly Cakes in Skyhold
by Clariana
Summary: Solas visits Ellana in Skyhold and brings along his favourite treat. Fluff, love and frilly cakes.


FRILLY CAKES IN SKYHOLD

The candle was guttering and the flickering light together with the dryness of the report she was reading and Cullen's careful spiderlike writing seemed to be conspiring to give Ellana a headache. It must be the wick, she thought, probably damp or not twisted properly. Poor quality. Ser Morris the quartermaster had remarked in passing that he'd had to cut back on what he called their "utility budgets" and this might have included purchasing cheaper candles, Ellana had taken hers from general supplies, she should perhaps have a word with him to see if he had any of the older ones set aside…

There was a knock on the door…

Oh, bugger, damn… She looked down at herself at least she'd shucked that stupid tight uniform for something a bit more Dalish and a lot more comfortable. But she had meant to dress demurely for the occasion and had, apparently, _forgotten the occasion entirely_.

"Come in." She said, trying very hard not to allow her irritation to leach into her voice. She had also overlooked changing her smalls…

"Did I catch you at a bad time, Inquisitor? I can come back later if you wish…"

Ellana mimed hitting her head on the desk. "I have twenty-six, no twenty-seven files to read on everything from herbs to horses from rifts to resources to dragons and that is without taking into account all my expeditions in the field I have never been so tired in my life."

"It was not my intention to trouble you."

"You are not troubling me Solas, it's just that I've been so busy that I forgot that we had agreed to meet. Anyway…" With the sweep of her hand she shoved the files to one side of the desk.

He eyed them and then gave her a pale smile. "It is good that I bought cakes then."

"Cakes?"

"Those Orlesian cakes, the little frilly ones." He said producing a plate from behind his back. With a flourish he pulled back a gingham cloth to reveal eight gracefully frosted cakes.

"Oh!"

The sweet mouth-watering smell of fresh baking wafted through the room.

"I convinced one of our newly arrived Orlesian friends to speak to our Fereldan cook and explain to her how to make them, having previously suggested to her that she might wish to extend her repertoire. And this is the result… I have to report back to her on the inquisitor's reaction."

"I know just the thing to go with this." Ellana got up from her desk, arched her back to loosen up her spine, walked across her room and went into one of the little store chambers. She emerged carrying two goblets and a bottle under her arm. "Dalish elderflower wine." She announced with a flourish. "It took Josie about three months to track some down for me. Now I have six bottles, a good moment to open one, I think."

She pulled out the cork and poured the light fragrant liquid into the goblets. She handed him one of the goblets tossed her head back and took a good swallow. Solas had lifted his goblet to the level of his mouth but was still holding it there when she opened her eyes.

"You don't drink? But in Halamshiral…"

"I thought it would draw too much attention if I refused. And I am ashamed to say it got the better of me rather quickly… Please don't be offended."

"I'm not." Said Ellana, although she was unable to conceal the extent to which this had taken her aback. "I am sorry but it reminds me of home, fresh meadows, clear streams… That kind of thing."

"Shall we sit by the fire?" He suggested, carefully placing the goblet on her desk.

"Why not? We can pretend we are outside, under the stars."

"Would you like that? I mean to be outside under stars?"

Ellana grimaced, "well no, not really, I think it's more nostalgia than anything else, it's freezing out there, and even the aravals would be cramped and cold and sometimes even damp in this weather... Not to mention… smelly… As for tents… I am fed up of sleeping on the hard ground. No. We can pretend that we are outside but I'm quite happy to sit in front of my fire here, on the bear skin rug, eat those delicious looking cakes, drink my wine and talk…"

"A woman after my own heart then."

"I am glad to hear it." It was strange they were both speaking Elvish but her speech patterns seem to be reflecting his rather archaic, formal rhythmic style. Solas sat down crossing his legs opposite her and carefully placed the plate of cakes between them. She lay down on her belly, took another sip from the goblet glanced at strikingly angular profile sharp ears, nose and chin illuminated by the flames and pondered this.

"Solas where are you from?" She said reaching for one of the little cakes, she saw his shoulders tense.

"I think I might try some of that wine after all." He got up rather awkwardly and padded gracefully across the room to the desk. Resumed his cross legged stance opposite her again, drew a breath and took a mouthful. "This is not so bad, it has a slight edge to it."

"A small village somewhere near Crestwood." He said after a pause, his gaze was fixed on the goblet, he began slowly swirling the wine. "It no longer exists. I never knew my family. They… I was looked after for a while by… Someone… She is also dead… I think."

Ellana who was holding the cake halfway to her mouth found herself struggling to say something. Meanwhile Solas raised his goblet again and took a deep swallow. It was at that point, gazing at his bobbing adam's apple, that Ellana realised she had a choice to make, she could continue to interrogate him about a past he was obviously uncomfortable to discuss or she could simply set aside that issue and concentrate on the here and now. The answer was clear, she took a bite of her cake.

"I think I shall try one too, now." He said reaching over to the plate, "What is your impression, Inquisitor?"

"Pleath, don call me dat…"

"What did you just say? I am not sure I heard right?" He put a hand to his ear, "Perhaps it is because the _Inquisitor_" He paused just there, "is speaking with her mouth full?"

Ellana swallowed. "Solas: do-not-call-me-the-inquisitor… At least not in here…"

"What should I call you then?" There was playfulness in his voice.

"Ellana…"

"Hmmm…" Solas was chewing. "A touch too much egg, perhaps…" he smacked his lips.

"Solas! How can you be so fussy, they are perfect…"

"Perhaps they are, but I really need to try another one. I suggest you do the same, you need to consolidate your viewpoint…"

Solas always seemed to overthink things, it was a typical mage trait, but she found rather endearing, though also occasionally, disconcerting, since she did not share it. The Dalish approach to magic, much like their approach to life, or at least that of clan Llavellen, was eminently practical. Fire. Ice. Wind. Lightning. Protect. Only if necessary, maim or kill. "Conso… We are just eating cakes…"

He laughed. "But it is good to have a justification for doing so. In any event, no action is simple…" He took a bite of the second cake, "Ummm, and this one definitely tastes better…"

"That is not possible." But it seemed to be true, her second cake seem tastier and more balanced than the first, fluffier, she sat up and crossed her legs and took a few more swallows from her goblet.

She was just reaching for a third one when Solas said, "Ahh, inq… There are some crumbs…"

The wine must have been getting the better of her, and now Solas was kneeling right in front of her and reaching over to her face…

He brushed his fingers over her lips, his touch was very light but her skin felt sensitive, even swollen where his fingers had passed. She looked at his face, and his mouth was tight, he had narrowed his eyes, perhaps it was a stray reflection from the fire but they seem to be burning, amber within grey ash.

He started to move his hand away very slowly when she grasped his wrist and moved it to her cheek. It seemed they had both been holding their breath, but they had reached some kind of milestone, a turning point perhaps. He stroked her cheek very softly with his thumb, tilting his head as if to properly focus on her face and then he leaned forward.

And he put his mouth on hers. It was a very light kiss at first, barely a brush of his lips against hers, barely a flick of his tongue. He tasted of sweetness, but also of tart elderflower wine and something undefinable something that escaped her current capacity to express it, not unpleasant but distant and melancholy… and enduring, like hay from a summer long past.

The fire crackled the rug was soft beneath her knees, part of her, a very small part of her, was aware of Skyhold as if it were turning distantly around her, but in truth there were all these things, but there was only really one thing, and that was her and Solas their mouths joined their hands touching.

She broke the kiss and stood up, "I want you." She wasn't entirely sure she had meant to be so abrupt. She had been known for taking a very direct approach in her relationships in the past and more often than not this had seemed to intimidate not a few of the men with whom she had come into contact.

Solas regained his feet more deliberately. Again that tilt of his head. "I can see no reason to refuse." He said quietly.

Actually, that had gone rather well…

He embraced her briefly putting his arms around her shoulders and then stepped behind her. He lifted her hair, dabbed a quick kiss on her neck and then she felt his deft fingers untying the tight knot on her stays with surprising ease, was he humming?

The temptation to know more about him was too great, especially following that kiss, "Solas why did you need a drink in order to tell me about yourself?" she regretted the question almost as soon as the words had left her mouth.

Solas seemed undaunted this time, "Ellana" he loosened the top fastening, she had to suppress a little shiver when he said her name "I could likewise ask you why you needed a drink in order to be with me…" He ran the tip of his index finger down her spine parting the ribbon as he went, finishing at the tip of her tailbone and lingering there perhaps a little longer than necessary. He was, she realised, very tactile. The bodice sagged around her waist. "Aha."

"Well, you have me there…" She said attempting to retain her composure. For a few beats they were both very still, she wondered what was going through his mind. She could almost feel him staring at her back.

"No." He said then in that very quiet voice of his, pulling her back by the waist against him so she could feel his hardness against her backside through their clothing. "I have you…" He paused because he had just placed his lips on the place where her neck met her shoulder. Her skin prickled under the soft touch of his dry lips. "I have you" he said again, his voice warm in her ear, "just here."

"Solas…" She murmured after a few moments, "This is unfair." She said turning around to face him.

"How so?" He asked, he closed his eyes and bent his head forward so his forehead touched hers, she had to use one of her hands to stop her blouse from falling away revealing her breasts. His pale eyelashes caught in firelight were beautifully shaped she noticed and his flickering eyelids looked so vulnerable…

"This…" She said tugging lightly at his tunic, why had her voice suddenly turned so hoarse?

He straightened. "That is easily enough solved."

"Well then." She let the blouse fall forward entirely revealing her breasts. A smile tugged at the corner of Solas' mouth, which she pretended to ignore as she began to fiddle with the belt that cinched his olive green tunic in place, he began to assist her. "No" she said, "my turn."

"Very well." He said allowing his hands to fall to his side. But she did not protest when as she began to pull his tunic up having dropped the belt to the floor he lightly placed his hands over hers as if to help her pull it over his head.

For some reason the slightest touch of his skin against hers made her whole body tingle. Oh, she had had a few other lovers before, even other mages, but she did not recall their presence as being so… _intense_. She could still feel the exact spot on the base of her neck where he had kissed her.

That had been the case even when they had just met and he had clasped her wrist pulling up her hand to effect that first fragment of healing magic.

"And now of course your undershirt…" She said as matter-of-factly as she could. Her voice still sounded as if it was scraping along a rough surface before emerging from her mouth.

"No" he corrected her "first this." He kissed her again while placing his left on her breast. His hand on her breast burnt. Ellana in turn grasped the back of his bare smooth skull as if she could pull him closer to her, even though she knew this was physically impossible. She felt that they were groping at each other as children grope at words.

Words… "I think… We should…" She said gasping "Get to the bed." Basically because she wasn't at all sure that her shaking legs could continue to support her much longer.

There seem to be an urgency about it now, he helped her to the bed, pulled at her skirt and it fell aside, likewise his undershirt. And then things slowed down he lay splayed back on the feather mattress, crossing his hands behind his head and giggling and challenged her to unlace his breeches. Ellana was suddenly all fingers and thumbs, and started cursing as she fumbled, while Solas offered her occasional words of encouragement as she bent over him. Most of them she understood… They were pretty straightforward, but some…

She was eventually triumphant. "Oh…"

He was very beautiful.

There was not a spare ounce on his frame. He looked lithe and supple, his torso was beautifully triangular and his thighs flared out from his waist, well-toned no doubt, by frequent trekking and _not _in the fade. Every muscle seemed perfectly honed and distinct but agreeably proportioned especially in his arms and legs. His body was balanced and above all, graceful, it resembled a spring or some perfect mechanism primed and ready for action. Naked human males looked unwieldy and primitive in comparison. She wondered how he would fare in a physical one-on-one against a human male, she would not put money on the human. Definitely not.

Everything was tight and taut… _Everything_. She kissed him quickly _down there_, and rolled back on her heels and started laughing.

"What is so funny Ellana?" he enquired arching an eyebrow, thankfully he didn't seem offended.

"You… You are hiding…"

"Meaning…" He said sitting up his face suddenly serious.

The words came in a rush, "Viv was right," she said, "you dress like a hobo, a peasant… Those leggings of yours are clean but made of coarse wool and triple darned… And all the while, you have the body of a prince… to whom the gods have shown _particular_ favour." She paused to take a breath, Solas' expression had relaxed, "If Viv could see you like this, she would wet her posh silk Orlesian undies …"

"I see… I shall take that as I think it was meant, as a compliment to my person rather than an insult to my dress sense." His eyes narrowed, "Now where were we? Ah yes…"

And then she was on her back and he was poised on all fours just over her, "and you, Ellana, look _so_ much more beautiful naked…" he hooked a finger under the waist of her underwear, her last shred of remaining clothing. Ellana suddenly felt even more breathless and began to squirm to assist in their removal, "so soft, so winsome so… Appetising." He mused, he was wearing that smile again, it was not an entirely kindly one and she liked that.

She raised her hand and touched the corner of his mouth. And keeping her eyes on his lowered it to touch his sex. He grunted, his groin twitched and he made a half-hearted thrust towards her body. "Not yet, too soon…"

He let himself drop next to her, they lay on their sides facing each other, their limbs entangled, one of his arms arched protectively over her head. Stroking her chin, he kissed her face, her eyelids her mouth her cheeks and then her neck, delicately as if he were picking and nibbling an exquisite dish. Her breasts received special attention, Ellana heard herself moaning as he nuzzled and then sucked at them, petting her nipples until they were so hard they hurt. And then he stopped and for a few minutes simply pulled her towards him and clasped her against his chest where she curled up, closing her eyes, feeling warmed and sheltered like a kitten offered refuge from a storm listening to the deep thud-thud from within his ribcage.

"Ellana", he breathed, stroking her cheek, and again "Ellana." And then his hand went down lower, and lower still. His forehead against hers, his eyes barely a few inches from hers and his hand… _There_. "Ellana, tell me you want this, that you want to do this with me."

Ellana swallowed, she understood that this was more than a matter of simple consent. "Yes, yes, I do." She caught his wrist and moved his hand so his fingers went deeper inside her. "There."

"Is that…"

"Yes, just there." She closed her eyes.

Unsurprisingly his fingers were as nimble inside her as they were on the knots of her stays. Ellana had never been subtle when she climaxed, and this time was no exception she soon began begging him not to stop at the same time as she clawed at his wrist, Solas, very prudently, didn't stop. She swore by the abyss, took the name of several deities in vain and concluded by exclaiming _fenedhis!_

By this point she had virtually jumped off the mattress and having sat up was bending forward gasping.

Solas withdrew his hand, "Well… That was… Very expressive."

"I… I am so sorry, it's just that…" Ellana felt flustered, she ran her fingers through her hair which was now damp, her cheeks were flushed an embarrassing crimson.

When she at last summoned the courage to look at him she saw that he was beaming, a grin split his face from side to side, there were crinkles around his mouth and under his eyes and for some reason he seemed… Charmed. "I had almost forgotten how much fun this could be, I think you just reminded me, Ellana." He placed a finger in the centre of her chest and pushed her lightly backwards. "It is my turn, now… I believe." He said primly.

Ellana did not resist, even if had she wanted to, she was in no position to do so.

He sighed when he entered her. "You feel even sweeter than I had imagined." he seemed totally in control at first, his movements measured and rhythmic. He would frequently stop just to murmur endearments or to kiss her, urgent wanton kisses like oversized blossoms on her face neck and breasts.

"Solas…" She ran her hand over his clenched jaw and then draped it down slowly down the cords of muscle of his neck over his chest and onto his stomach tautening with the effort. She then moved it behind cupping his backside gripping the tight muscle. Solas groaned and shuddered.

And then his thrusts became more erratic… He buried his face in her shoulder, she felt his breath on her cheek. Sera had joked that Solas in the sack would exclaim "Elven glory!" but that was not what happened. He made a deep visceral sound as if in pain and as he spasmed, he said "Ellana..." And this time he said it with a breathy exhalation and stressing the 'la' and then, on the descent, "Vehnan."

He fell down next to her and lay very still for the next few minutes one hand clasping his chest, Ellana reached out and took the other. "As I said," he muttered, "It has been a _very_ long time…"

They looked at the errant shadows that the dying fire was still casting on the ceiling. It must be quite late now, Skyhold was still, she didn't know why but Ellana had always thought of it as a living being, a quiet brooding entity that had been gently coaxed back to life.

"It has also been a long time since I shared my bed," said Ellana squeezing his hand "and I don't think I realised just how much I missed it… Solas you will always be welcome here. Even if it is just to share a meal, talk and sleep after a long day."

"What of the others?" He asked tiredly, avoiding her eyes.

"Let them think what they want, it is not my concern. None of us know how this might end, and every day is precious," She weaved her fingers between his, "I am sure they are aware of that… I certainly am." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I need to put out the candles…"

She crept out from under the covers, tiptoed across the floor and snuffed out the candles on her desk and those on the shelves.

When she got back to the bed he was asleep, she snuggled up against his back draping an arm over his waist.

Ellana woke first, it may have been her concern about all the reports she had failed to read and sign off, or the pale frigid light creeping through the windows or it may have been the sound. At first she thought it was someone having a whispered conversation just outside her door but then she realised it was Solas. She sat up.

He lay on his back with one hand resting on his chest and the other beside him. In the snow reflected light she could see vague freckles scattered over his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and the backs of his hands. He seemed to be engaged in a very animated conversation. His eyelids were quivering and his mouth and hands were moving slightly. He seemed to be explaining something or arguing a point, in long dense sentences sinuous with meaning. As before, Ellana caught some of the words but many of them were indistinct and even more of them she simply did not understand, though their sound was not unfamiliar… And his articulation was far speedier than his normal waking speech…

Ellana shook her head to ensure she was awake, and stopped her thoughts there. Was his waking speech his normal one? Or was this… fade speech… his true native language? That idea was disquieting to say the least.

And then it occurred to Ellana that she was intruding, he may have been her lover for one night but that gave her no right to eavesdrop upon private conversations, which this obviously was.

She got up. She tucked the covers securely around his neck, he was still mumbling. Their clothes were scattered about the room, so she went around picking them up. When she retrieved his leggings she couldn't help but study them closely prior to folding them, as she had noted the evening before they were darned in several places, especially around the knees and the heel where her own leggings tended to wear before anywhere else, the stitches made in wool that didn't match and in one instance, string, were small neat and meticulous, almost fussy, it was very clearly the same person who had made all the repairs.

As she slowly pulled on her own garments she wondered who Solas really was, a powerful mage, a fade walker, the self-reliant wanderer from nowhere traceable applying careful stitches to his own clothing, the emotional considerate lover?

Did it matter?

Over the last few years Ellana had made so many compromises that her head spun just to think of them, in exchange she had gained friendships and alliances that in a previous life she would never have dreamt. Where once she would have simply moved on, in that timeless Dalish fashion, now was compelled to stay put, finding herself almost routinely embroiled in negotiations to find a common purpose or middle ground, for the greater good, for survival, peace and acceptance … So, at least, she told herself, and in order to do this the forbearance and tolerance of both parties was necessary. So what if Solas had a past he did not wish to discuss? Everything she had seen of him seemed honourable and above board and her instincts told her he was virtuous. And Ellana had always trusted her instincts.

Ellana was frowning at report about mineral deposits in the Fallow Mire area when Solas stirred. "I thought it best to let you sleep…" She couldn't help adding "You had a hard night after all."

He uttered a muffled thanks upon discovering his clothes folded next to him on the bed. "I was attempting to please a very demanding mistress, insofar as I can recall." He said reaching for them. He started tugging on his tunic. "I wonder if I did please her."

Ellana leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers, "Yes I think you did."

"Always good to know." Having finished dressing, he sniffed his jerkin. "Bathhouse first, I think, then breakfast, then back to work…"

"Solas…"

There was a pause, "Yes, Ellana?"

"Last night when you, when… You called me 'my heart'… 'Vehnan.' Did you mean it?"

He walked over to the desk, there was something very deliberate in his gait, very graceful and purposive. He tilted his head and looked down at her, "The person who said this thing, is he easy with his words, does he take things lightly, is he perhaps frivolous and given to self-indulgence?"

Ellana put the manuscript down and looked him dead in the eyes. "No. He is not easy with his words in fact, most of the time, I would describe him as terse to the point of dryness. And frivolous? Definitely not."

"And the circumstances in which this word was said, were they perchance trivial and pedestrian such as may occur every day and of no or little significance to the parties involved?"

"I would not say so, no. Though alcohol may have played a part…"

"Then I think, perhaps, Ellana, you have your answer."

Ellana got her feet and walked around the desk to him, "Solas I don't know how they do things in the fade, and quite frankly at the moment," she framed his face with her hands, "I don't care…" They kissed open mouthed with the sloppy abandon of adolescents. "Just make sure you come back tonight, and bring more cakes. I have a sudden urge to count your freckles…"

"So I have my orders?" He was smiling again.

"Yes. Yes, you do."

"There is one more matter pending…"

"What might that be?"

"What do I tell the cook?"

"Tell her the inquisitor approves. Good effort." Ellana sat back down. The flowing writing on the next scroll in her pile, was strangely familiar… "And to make more cakes, of course."

"I shall see you this evening then… Vehnan."

"Don't forget to close the door behind you."


End file.
